Aftermath: The 51st Hunger Games
by always-thegirlonFIRE
Summary: My name is Scarlette Hewitt, I am seventeen years old; and I'm going to be District Five's female tribute for the 51st Annual Hunger Games. I was reaped last year for the Quarter Quell but my best friend volunteered for me. For the past six months I have trained for the Games like the Careers. And this year, I am determined to show everyone what I can do. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

The Aftermath

Prologue

_Caesar stared at me intensely, like he didn't understand what I was saying. But of course he did. Caesar knows everything, about everyone._

_He stared at me like he didn't know why Fletcher jumped off the cliff._

_But Caesar knows why. _

_Fletcher did it for love._


	2. Preparation

The Aftermath

Chapter 1: Preparation

I wake up, almost begrudgingly, as I know what this day holds for me.

It is the Reaping day of the 51st Annual Hunger Games. It is; what some people are calling the 'Aftermath', the aftermath of the second Quarter Quell. Where four, not two; families shut down and mourned their child's imminent death. The second Quarter Quell, when my name was picked ever so daintily from the reaping bowl by our Capitol escort, Sparkles Pelew. When Eva, my best friend; said in a quiet voice the bravest two words ever spoken by a child of Panem.

_I volunteer._

And those were the two words that I regret the most to hear. I shouldn't have let her. That moment will be with me for the rest of my life. The moment I let my friend die. The guilt will stay with me forever.

Lisbeth's voice brings me out of my little nightmare, 'Scarlette! You up yet?' I groan in reply. She doesn't know I've been training for the last 6 months in preparation of this. I haven't told anyone, not even my sister. Lisbeth is 18; it's her last year of being a possible tribute, and to hell I'm making sure that doesn't happen.

Lisbeth stomps up to my room.

'Seriously, you're wearing a long-sleeve shirt? It's like the middle of freakin' summer! Crazy girl. Now get up. We want you looking mighty fine for the Reaping!' she cackles on the way out.

I roll over to sleep in a little longer. I can't be looking tired when I stand up on stage, I'll look weak.

'RIGHT! THAT'S IT! UP. NOW!' my mother's shout startles me. I wonder what the neighbours are thinking.

'Fine I will! For Panem's sake…' I mutter. I tromp downstairs to find a piece of bread with some kind of jam on top waiting for me on a plate on the wooden table. I sit down and devour it before my mother can even say 'Breakfast is on the table'.

So instead, she lays down a turquoise, knee length dress on what you could call a couch.

'Turquoise, for you know, electricity, power. Lisbeth picked it out herself. It's rather nice once you think about it.' Mother explains quietly.

'Thanks.' I whisper, taking the dress up to my room to put it on. It fits quite well to my body shape surprisingly. Not many things fit me now, though I mostly get Lisbeths' hand-me-downs, which don't fit me at all.

Mother comes up and fixes my dead straight black hair into a loose bun on the top of my head, carefully leaving strands of hair hanging around my face.

'Now you really look beautiful.' she whispers in my ear.

I stare into the mirror at my reflection. Sure I might look beautiful like my mother says, but what I see in my strange, topaz coloured eyes, is fierceness, and I know then, that I will do everything to win this game.


	3. Reap the Justice

Chapter 2: Reaping and Justice Building

The walk to the town square is agonizing. Not physically, but emotionally. Just seeing all those families where even the thought of their child or children being sent off to fight to the death against twenty-three either stronger or older children sends shivers down my spine.

At least I'm comforted by the fact that none of these little girls will be District 5's female tribute this year.

There are Peacekeepers everywhere, it's not hard to spot them in their pristine white uniforms among the dimness of District 5's people's attitudes and clothing. The rusting powerlines everywhere add to the effect. Lisbeth and I get in the long line for some of the Peacekeepers to prick our fingers and then I give Lisbeth a hug. She whispers 'Good luck,' in my ear. We then stand in our age groups, so I am only a couple of rows in front of her.

After a while, Sparkles Pelew, Mayor Davies, and the previous victors of District 5 take their places on the stage. The last victor was Makayla Hallman, she won the 40th Games by outsmarting the rest and hiding in the rubble piles in the junkyard-like arena at the age of 14; making her one of the youngest victors in the history of the Games. The victor before that was Brock Powers, who won the 32nd Games when he was 16 by sheer luck, his opponent tripped over his own feet and somehow landed on Brock's sword. There are only two other victors apart from them, but Makayla and Brock are the mentors for this year's tributes.

Mayor Davies finally stumbles up to the microphone. He prattles on about how the Capitol is awesome and they own us so don't even bother uprising again because they can obliterate us just like they did to District 13, yada, yada, yada.

He returns to his seat, and you can see in his little beady eyes that he did not want to be up there for one second. Of course, because his precious son can still be reaped, not even being the Mayor's son can save you from the Games.

Sparkles steps up, her magenta wig sparkling (cliché, I know), making it hard to focus on her. She's definitely dressed the brightest today.

'Welcome, welcome everyone! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour.' Yeah, yeah, we know. Lets be happy that there'll be two kids merrily going to their deaths.

'As always, ladies first!' she says cheerfully. She walks over to the glass bowl full of the girls' names. She daintily puts her hand in, shuffling up the slips of paper for what feels like 10 minutes before pulling a name out.

'Nicola Finch.'

The girl next to me stiffens and there's a look of terror in her green eyes. She moves slowly and rigidly towards the stage. Sparkles greets her happily, almost as if she was happy that this girl, Nicola, was going to her certain death. Our tributes usually don't last long.

Sparkles calls out if there any volunteers. I shove my way through the crowd of 17-year-old girls, most of them in shock that someone is volunteering, let alone me.

'I volunteer! I volunteer!' I shout, making sure she can hear me. Nicola looks genuinely surprised.

'Oh, excellent, a volunteer! How brave of you!' Sparkles exclaims. She beckons me up and ushers Nicola off the stage at the same time. Nicola whispers a thank you as I pass her.

'And your name is?'

'Scarlette Hewitt.'

'Are you a friend of Nicola's?'

'Yes.' I lie. I didn't even know she existed until today.

'Wonderful! Congratulations on your courage Miss Hewitt! Now, onto the boys!' she wanders to the boys glass bowl and plucks out a name.

'Fletcher Davies.'

The son of the mayor: classic. But the name Fletcher rings a bell somewhere in the deep recesses of my memories.

Oh God, not that Fletcher. The Fletcher I'm thinking of couldn't possibly be the Fletcher that's walking shakily up to the stage right now. But my head is telling me that it is.

Fletcher Davies is the boy that I got dared by my friends to kiss three years ago. I'm only freaking out now because that was my first kiss, and I couldn't bear the thought that he will probably be dead in a couple of weeks.

Soon enough he is standing opposite me, and I'm shaking his hand as Sparkles introduces Panem to the tributes of District 5 while the anthem plays over the speakers. Fletcher's sandy blonde hair is half covering his huge lime-green eyes, which are filled with terror.

The anthem ends, the cameras are turned off, and we are taken into the Justice Building.

My first guests are Lisbeth and Mother and Father. Lisbeth pulls me into a teary bear hug.

'Why would you volunteer? You don't even know her! You idiot!' she cries.

I mutter why, and what I've been doing for the past 6 months, hopefully out of hearing range for the Capitols hidden cameras. Lisbeths' soft brown eyes get even tearier.

'You're still an idiot.' She murmurs into my hair. She releases me, and in turn I hug my parents and apologise for putting them in this position. The Peacekeepers barge in and start to usher my family out.

'I promise I'll come back!' I shout as they are dragged out the door, choking on the last word. I sit on the dusty velvet couch with my head in my hands, sobbing my heart out. I am disrupted by Nicola Finch, the girl whose ass I just saved, who comes in quite awkwardly and stands just in front of the doorway.

'What do _you_ want?' I spit at her, almost like I'm blaming her for my family's situation.

'Why did you volunteer for me?' she asks quietly, looking me dead in the eye.

'Because I had to.'

'No you didn't, you don't even know me. No other districts apart from the Careers volunteer for someone they don't know.' Nicola points out.

I exhale, 'I volunteered because I have to prove what I'm worth to everyone. I let my only friend die last year because I was too cowardly to stop her. You have no idea how that feels.'

'No, I don't, but thankyou for volunteering, wouldn't have made a day in the arena. I know you can win,' she states.

'Thanks,' I whisper. She walks over to where I'm sitting and holds out a dark blue ring in her hand. The ring looks like it's pulsating with energy.

'Take it. It can be your token. To remind you of District 5: of home.'

I take it, not saying a word as she leaves quietly.

I have no more visitors.

The Peacekeepers come in early, realising that no one else is coming. They lead me out to a car where I am squished up against Sparkles with Fletcher sitting on her other side. She babbles on about how great the Capitol is, and how delicious the food is, and blah, blah, and blah.

We stop outside the train station, where we meet Brock and Makayla. I stand on the station platform, and take one last look at District 5, my home, before the Peacekeepers block my view and I move on to the next phase of my life.


	4. Discussions

Chapter 3 – Train

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, stupid writers block! -_- I'll probably zip through the Capitol fairly quickly, as I find the actual Games **_**much **_**more interesting, hehehe. **

**P.S. I do not own the Hunger Games series, unfortunately, Suzanne Collins does.**

**P.P.S. I also don't own the song lyrics in this chapter, the amazing band, Coldplay, does. **

**Anyway, ON WITH THE STORY! And may the odds be **_**ever**_** in your favor. **

Brock looks across at us like a piece of dead meat. He's probably thinking; _Oh great, I've got a small weird-looking girl and the Mayor's son who hasn't lifted a finger since the day he was born._

Fun, fun, fun. Makayla looks at us less judgmentally, but then again, she only had to kill one person in her Games, which made her the victor. We sit opposite each other, Makayla and Brock on one side and Fletcher and I on the other. Sparkles is sitting on a deep red plush couch behind us, filing her long, decorated nails.

'So... are you going to tell us what to do in the Games?' I inquire after a while of having a mini death-staring competition.

'Here's a tip, don't die.' Brock informs us without any emotion. Fletcher's left hand curls into a fist.

'Brock! Don't tell them that, these ones have a chance this year! Ignore him; he's just grumpy all the time!' Sparkles hisses at him. Fletcher's fist unfurls.

(I have to say though, that was the only time I ever liked anything that came out of Sparkles Pelew's mouth)

She goes back to filing her nails, humming some stupid obnoxious Capitol song.

'Too bad they probably will,' Brock looks at Fletcher with his unforgiving grey eyes, 'Flashy Boy, what can you do that could vaguely hurt anyone in that arena?'

'Ummmm,' Fletcher thinks hard, 'Well, I can run pretty fast, and for a long time, so I could probably outpace someone if they were chasing me. Oh, and my uncle took me out for archery once or twice so I can have a go at that in the Training Center.'

'Pfft, that aint gonna keep you alive in the arena. If you're outrunning someone with a spear or knife or bow, you're dead. Simple as that.' Brock stands up, takes his glass of whiskey and leaves the room, staggering a little on the way out, spilling some of his drink.

Makayla pipes up, 'So Scarlette, what can you do that could be useful in the arena?'

'I use knives.' My answer is short, sharp and snappy. I stare directly into her watery blue eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I see Fletcher giving me a confused look. He's never seen this side of me.

'Oh, okay, that's good. Much better than what I could do.' _Which was nothing, _I think to myself. Fletcher checks his watch.

'Well, it looks like the Reapings recap is about to start,' he, Makayla and Sparkles get up from their chairs and begin to walk off whilst I still sit rigid in my seat, staring into nothing.

'Scarlette? Are you gonna join us?' Fletcher asks.

'Yeah I'm coming, I'm coming.' I mumble. I reluctantly get up, not wanting to see the children I'll have to kill. But then, I'll probably have to ally with some of them.

We watch the recap rather sadly, as at least half the tributes are fourteen years old or younger. The ones I take particular notice of are a handsome boy from District 1, who could probably win the Games with his killer smile. An older, sadistic looking boy with flaming red hair and an excited volunteer girl with waist long platinum hair from 2, and a mysterious looking boy with the iconic sea-green eyes of District 4. A little boy from 8 with a small dark afro, and looks like he could power his whole district with his brain, and two tiny twelve-year-old girls from Districts 10 and 11. And the boy from 12, who looks like he's either about to have a seizure or faint; his stone-grey eyes paralysed with fear.

It cuts back to Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith sitting at desk with the nightlife of the Capitol outside the window behind them. They bid us goodnight whilst the anthem plays.

Viewing this year's recap remind me of watching last year's recap of the reaping, watching name after name after name being plucked out the reaping bowl, and seeing the fear in every one of their eyes, and then to see in my very own eyes, it only to be relieved by a familiar voice saying 'I volunteer'. I then realised who said it, and burst into tears. I cried for around a week before and after Eva was murdered by one of District 1's girls in the bloodbath. She was the second to be killed.

Fletcher switches off the TV with a sigh, 'And let's rejoice with the fact that 23 of us have death sentences. Yaaaay,' He says sarcastically, mimicking the presenters.

Sparkles stands up and looks out the window, 'Well, we're passing District 7 now, so we should be in the Capitol by lunch tomorrow,' she says bubbly. How she remains so cheerful all the time will always be a mystery to me.

I glance outside the window, only now realising how dark it's getting. Makayla does too, and suggests dinner, we all agree with her, noticing how hungry we are. Makayla then wanders off towards the rooms' carriage to find Brock.

Fletcher and I gorge ourselves at dinner, eating every possible food we can, as we know we'll probably never eat food like this again apart from when we're in the Capitol.

The table is awkwardly silent apart from the sound of Fletcher and me eating ourselves sick.

I leave the table and go to my room before everyone else does. I sit on the edge of the massive bed with my head in my hands, and despite my tough-girl act, I begin to cry. I cry for my parents, I cry for Lisbeth, I cry for the tiny 12-year-old tributes that will most likely be dead in two weeks, and most of all, I cry for myself. I'm never going to be able to kill those little girls or Fletcher for that matter. I sob for at least five more minutes, and then I hear a soft knock at the door.

'Scarlette? Can I come in?' Fletcher's muffled voice comes through the door. How has he heard me crying? Of course, our rooms are right next to each other. No doubt the others have heard me sobbing my heart out. They're probably enjoying my little breakdown.

I mumble a 'yes', and he comes in immediately and sits next to me with his arm around my shoulder, comforting me. For some reason I cry even more hysterically.

'Hey, hey, calm down, it'll be fine, you're not the only one going through this.' He reassures me. He does this for a while before he does something I didn't think a person like Fletcher would do. He starts to sing. It's a very old song, hundreds of years old, but I know it.

'_When you try your best, but you don't succeed,  
When you get what you want, but not what you need,  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep,  
Stuck in reverse,_

_And the tears come streaming down your face,  
When you lose something you can't replace,  
When you love someone but it goes to waste,  
Could it be worse?'_

I've only half-stopped crying, but I still join in with him quietly for the chorus.

'_Lights will guide you home,  
And ignite your bones,  
And I will try,  
to fix you.'_

As soon as Fletcher's (now slightly teary) lime-green eyes look into mine I know what he's going to do, but I won't stop him. He slowly tips his head towards mine and kisses me softly, lingering for just a little while before pulling away slightly.

'You know I never regretted that kiss,' he whispers.

'Neither did I,' I reply faintly. We sit there for couple of minutes, just with our foreheads pressed against each others, eyes closed and Fletcher's around my shoulders. I feel him pull away slowly to leave.

'No, please, don't leave. I'll probably end up having another meltdown if you do.' I beg him quietly.

'Okay, just for tonight.'

I don't tell him that I would happily spend every night with him, but then we probably don't have many more nights when we're both alive.

We re-adjust ourselves so Fletcher's lying on his back with his arm around me and I'm lying on my side next to him with my head on his chest. Even just the soft rising and falling of him breathing comforts me for a little while before we fall asleep, still in our Reaping clothes.

That night I had a horrible nightmare. It was when Fletcher was singing to me, but for some reason we were sitting together on a kind of rocky plateau, with forest surrounding the plateau beneath us. He finished singing, but instead of kissing me after, he shoved a knife into my stomach. Only then I realised we were in the arena, the golden Cornucopia visible in the distance.

I felt no pain, though I knew I must be dying. Fletcher let out a maniacal laugh.

'You can't trust anyone Scarlette, not even me.' He says, his eyes full of venom. He then walks away, leaving the knife embedded in my stomach. I lay there on the ground breathing shallowly for what seemed like hours before Sparkles shrill voice takes me out of my nightmare.

'Scarlette! Goodness gracious, why aren't you out of bed yet? The rest of us are having breakfast! Tut, tut. Get up, NOW.' She demands as she struts out the room. Yes, she struts, not walks.

I groan, and then I notice I'm covered in sweat. Thank god Sparkles didn't see otherwise she would've had a gazillion Capitol attendants rush over here like moths to a light bulb.

I drag myself out of bed and change into a simple dark red dress. My hair has suffered during my sleep so I comb it out, letting it tumble down my back. I remembered Nicola's ring, which was on the bathroom counter, and put it on my left ring finger.

When I arrive at the dining room, Sparkles is sitting on a couch, filing her nails still, Brock is standing at the window, looking out at the countryside with a glass with some kind of alcoholic drink in it, and Makayla and Fletcher are sitting at the table discussing strategies or something. Fletcher looks up and my eyes meet his. He gives me a sheepish smile before looking back at Makayla, obviously thinking about last night.

Brock turns around at glares at me with hard eyes. 'Oh look, Sleeping Beauty's up, too bad you won't be able to sleep for that deeply for that much longer.'

Makayla shoots him a dirty look. 'Really must you be so negative all the time, Brock? You're not helping anyone with that attitude.' She frowns.

'Well they should at least know that we only help them with about 15% of what needs to be done, so really, if you don't want to be killed while you're sleeping in the arena it's up to you to wake up early so _you_ can'tbe killed. It's not that hard. Flash seems to get it.' He states.

We're all confused to who 'Flash' is until we realise he means Fletcher, because he can run fast, and Brock had taken to calling him Flashy Boy.

I sit down and start to eat what has been piled on my plate. I'm about half-way through talking with Makayla and eating when Sparkles squeals that we've arrived at the Capitol. Fletcher and I immediately rush to the window to have a look at the city that "provides" us with everything, including 23 tributes deaths.

There's no mistaking the luxury that Capitol citizens live in, the tall different coloured buildings, the massive food markets, the expensive fancy cars that not even Fletcher's family could afford, and even the huge statues for each of Panem's presidents, the newest one was built around three years ago, President Coriolanus Snow. To think that we were only here for such a short time, and that we'd probably never see its grandeur again, it was a shame.

I felt the train slowly come to a stop at the station and I see the strangely dressed citizens waving and blowing kisses at us, their rainbow skins and hair and clothes almost blinding me. But Fletcher and I both wave and smile back politely, though we'd both rather run back to District 5 and hide under our beds until the Peacekeepers find us.

Fletcher whispers quietly to me as his hand slips inside mine.

'C'mon, let's do this shit.'


End file.
